Link: A Moment in Time with My Baby

July 5th....
Almost an entire month since the accident...
The day after one of my baby's favorite holidays...
Just 5 days until he would be three years old...
Two weeks until the circus birthday party that he will not be apart of...


This is what days are now. Every day, every date, every hour are compared to that day. Our lives have become a before June 9 and an after June 9. We get up, we get ready, we get out of the house. These walls are too quiet. We are waking up to the sun, not to my son. We awake and are immediately aware of the silence. Sometimes we just lie there and stare at the pictures of him that hang on our walls. Sometimes we silently cry so as not to awake one another. Other times we roll over and immediately wake Logan up (yes he's now in our bed every night and we don't mind) just to hear noise.

I've decided that I need to write on this blog again, because it's less painful than thinking. Of all the memories that I have of Sawyer, I can only think of one: Me saying, "Where's Sawyer?" just before I looked in the pool. I remember him...like that. I remember yelling "No! No! Help me! Help me!" because I couldn't reach him over the side. I remember Matt hopping up and over the side to grab him. I remember him lying in the grass, so blue, with Matt trying to revive him. I remember running barefoot down the dirt road trying to catch the fire truck as they passed by our mislabeled street. I remember the paramedic running back down the driveway with Sawyer in his arms, his poor little limp arms flailing behind. And that's where it ends. That's where my memories end and where the loop starts over and over again. The only other thoughts that enter my brain are nightmares. How long did he struggle? How long did he look up, waiting for Mommy and Daddy to come save him? Was he scared? Was he trying to scream? Was he afraid that we would be mad that he went in without his floaties like he knew he wasn't allowed to? God I'm so sorry. I'm so sorry baby. You should have never been scared like that. We should have been there.

We're still receiving cards and flowers. We're being asked daily, "How are you doing?" We can go places, we can smile, we can laugh, we can function. But it's so empty. I realized yesterday that going to the store is so easy now. I'm not constantly trying to keep sticky little fingers from grabbing things, from opening the food in the cart, from running amuck. Easy is not better. I would give anything to feel that frustration again, to feel that anger again, to feel that muffled laughter as he gave me his "you can't be mad at me too long" smile, to feel him. God I want to hold him. I want to run my fingers through his hair again. I want him back. more. than. anything.

We have spent these last weeks either working on the backyard or going anywhere and everywhere, just to stay out of this silent home. Logan has been spoiled rotten lately. I thought that I would have complete and utter patience with him, after all, he is grieving in his own way as well. I'm finding, however, that my patience is short. He is in constant need of attention, and the second that I find myself wanting to tell him to hush, I feel the guilt. Of course he needs Mom and Dad to give him attention - his little buddy is gone. He has no one to play with but us. Thank God for Logan and his need. Without him I really don't know where we'd be. Matt and I are stronger than ever though. We're able to talk about things together, we're able to cry about things together, we're able to hope for things together. We are together and even though a huge piece of us is missing, we still love. We are angry, but we still love.

What has made these last few weeks the hardest is planning the birthday party. Sawyer is July 10, Logan is July 18, and Sawyer's cousin Abby is July 21. We are having a circus themed birthday party. We ordered a popcorn maker and my eyes welled up watching the popcorn burst out of the kettle - Sawyer would have loved it. He would have taken that big, surprised intake of breath, mouth wide open, blue eyes as big as can be, head looking from us to the popcorn and back. How can we plan this birthday party without him? I had to delete his name from the invitation. I had to delete him.

Sawyer, baby, I miss you so much. You are in our thoughts at every turn. Every song, every movie, every toy, every room, everywhere reminds me of you. Mommy and Daddy have been strong enough to hold it together for most of the day, but mornings and nights are still rough. We have huge pictures of you in the house now - beautiful pictures from your beautiful service. We give you a kiss every morning and night and hope that you can feel them where you are. We're still so sorry baby. We always will be. We will never regret anything more than not thinking of you for those five minutes. It's too late now, but not a minute goes by that you aren't in our minds. We miss you. We love you. We love you to the moon and back, to infinity and beyond, forever and always. I'll love you forever, I'll like you for always, as long as I'm living, my baby you'll be. Love, Mommy <3